Undisclosed Desires
by TessTaylor
Summary: Someone has been watching Severus. Song-fic based on Undisclosed Desires by Muse. Pick your character or put yourself in as the character!


I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe. J. does. She is the queen.

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...Undisclosed Desires...

For years I watched him.

My prying teenage eyes followed almost every footstep he made. He embodied the mystery that shrouded his life. Mystery was found in every facet of his being. It flowed from his robes as he swept from the room; it swam in his eyes as deep ebony pools.

No one really knew him. I, myself, had only painted a picture of a man who had seen and been forced into too muchtoo soon, too brashly. After the conflict, after all was finally said and done, he had ceased to live. Yes, he had survived the war, the snake; but what little light that had shone from his eyes had been extinguished. His job was over, both his masters perished. He took orders from no one but himself; but it seemed he did not quite have the energy to give himself anything more than necessary to do.

To the immense astonishment of the world, he had resumed his potions teaching. He attended the start of term feasts, the dinners, and even the memorial ball held every year for the fallen. But he never danced. He never seemed to be stirred from the deep reverie that had drowned his mind. It was at a final memorial ball I had had enough. I knew all about his past, what he'd done, who he'd loved, who he'd lost. Everyone knew.

He was slowly killing himself whether he was aware of it or not and I simply could not stand it any longer. We were at opposite ends of the Hall, standing against our respective walls. I standing, ever watching his blank emotionless face.

He was quietly and strangely beautiful.

I found myself staring, realizing that I could stare and stare for hours. I was so curious! What was going on in his brilliant mind? Was it still brilliant even after the trauma he had seen and put himself through? How I longed to know. I still am not sure what I wanted to accomplish by talking to him.

I knew that if time would not heal, no impulsive, obsessed girl was going to heal anything in one night. Maybe I wanted to give him hope. Maybe I wanted to let him know that even though I had not experienced the horrors he had, he would not be alone.

I wanted to know that he was indeed loved. I wanted to reconcile the violence in his heart. I wanted to recognize his strange beauty was not just a mask of disdain. I wanted to exorcize the demons from his past. I wanted to make him understand forgiveness from other people and especially for himself. I wanted him to see that life was worth living.

As my brain marinated in all these thoughts, I realized that the object of my fascination was staring right back at me, his black eyes boring into mine.

A rational, polite person would have looked away but I couldn't. I replayed the thoughts harder and louder in my head, hoping he could hear them. I wanted him to know.

I needed him to know.

As my thoughts swirled in my brain over and over, I slowly came to the realization that I could do absolutely nothing for him. I had no influence over his life. What was I thinking? How could I honestly believe that if I campaigned enough to him through my thoughts he would be okay?

I blinked away from his stare, only then discovering the tears on my face. I blinked the remaining tears out of my eyes as I slowly came back to the room. Remembering where I was, I looked around to see if anyone had spied my sudden burst of emotion. There was no sign of worry or fuss on the faces of anyone around me. I smeared the tears off my face as best as I could and took a breath. How could I have been so confident in myself?

I had thoroughly embarrassed myself while simultaneously exuding arrogance in the mind of _him_. What had I done?

I found an empty seat by the back doors, preparing for a quick exit should the need arise. I turned down several dances, not feeling quite in the mood for being swept across the dance floor in a spectacle of lights and movement. I wanted to get out. I wanted nothing more than to leave. I had embarrassed myself enough for one night. Standing, I made way for the exit.

I gave the hall one last sweeping glance; searching in vain for the man I knew never wanted to see me again. Not seeing him, I dared not make a second desperate look back. I pulled the door open and walked out. I pulled my coat on and ambled down the hallway, losing myself in the memory of his eyes captivating me to share my thoughts. I stopped, sighing, and rubbed my hands over my face as if trying to erase what I had done.

I was so caught up in myself I never heard the footsteps behind me. I never saw the pale hand reach out to touch my shoulder. I never saw his face contort in torment as he lowered his hand and took steps backward. I never saw or heard the man I loved turn and walk away from me. I never knew that as I recovered and raised my head back up, we would be walking in opposite directions, never to cross paths again. We would never truly disclose to each other the desires in our hearts.

~And so our story ends.


End file.
